


Dís' Letter

by IngvildSchage



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family, Loss, Multi, Sadness, say goodbye, the last letter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:12:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3142268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IngvildSchage/pseuds/IngvildSchage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dís writes to her late husband Víli about all the things she did not get to tell him in life, and her pain for his loss. This is a preface to a future (somewhat posponed) fanfiction I will write about her. I hope you like and become interested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dís' Letter

“I have lost much in this yet short life of mine,”  
  
Dís sat in a deep chair, her short feet dangling, barely grazing the floor. Even as a dwarf she was reckoned small, as she was shorter than most of her kin.  
  
A single candle was standing beside her hand. The room was dark but for the little flame beside her. It threw a solemn light on the words she had written.  
  
The pen in her hand scratched the paper before she stopped again and returned it to its ink stand. Balls of paper were scattered around her on the table and the floor. She had started writing and then changed her mind many times by the count of them.  
  
Dís was about to curl the paper before her in her hands, but she stopped herself. She stared at the words. “I have lost much”. Dís had never been especially poetic and this would prove to be the hardest letter she would ever write. Again, she put the pen to the paper and continued to write.  
  
“I lost my mother to the scorching fires of Smaug. After that my father and grandfather would become strangers to me. You must know, I was naught but an infant at the time, but even the young remember."  
  
Dís gazed over her shoulder to the bed, where she saw the slumbering body of Fíli. He was so young, only five short years, but already she saw that his heart was full of courage. As king in waiting it was a good thing, for he needed much strength for the years to come.  
  
Dís stood and walked over to the bed. He was nothing more than a shadow under the skins on the bed, but she would know her son anywhere.  
  
Next to their... her bed, stood the bassinet where the little babe Kíli slumbered. A mere week old, he did little but sleep through the hours of the day. Unaware and unaffected she almost envied him. The days of children were so very less troubled, and Dís longed for naive numbness.  
  
She lifted Kíli into her arms, taking comfort in the little child that was all hers, no one else's. Every firstborn son belonged to their father, but the second born belonged to the mother. Kíli would not be king, nothing was expected of him, and so no one else would ever have claim of him but she.  
  
Kíli stretched in his sleep, and Dís kissed his soft head as tears filled her eyes. She walked back to the chair with him in her arms. She was afraid she would not hold it together if not for the courage the babe brought her. Dís again grabbed the pen.  
  
“It was first by the death of my brother that I knew the feeling of loss and the pain it brought. It was the only death that angered me, for it was such a needless loss. The battle was without point and end, and at the time I deeply resented my remaining brother for his fault in the matter.”  
  
Dís swallowed her tears. Touching Kíli's sleeping face, she thought of Frerin and the role he had always played in her life. Nothing had been the same after his death, especially between Thorin and her. Dís gritted her teeth. The thought of him always brought an angry fire to her cheeks, followed by instant regret. Nothing that had happened had been his fault, but still she couldn't help but blame him.  
  
“Oh, how he angers me still, but it all fades in the light of his latest change of character. You should have seen him, how he held your youngest son only few hours after his birth. He looked like a proud father, and it brought me endless happiness, along with endless pain.”  
  
A tear released and hit the word “pain” as a perfect drop. Dís had to clench her teeth together not to scream all the agony she felt in her chest. She rocked Kíli in her arms, and lowered her face to the top of his head. His soft smell calmed her, and she exhaled heavily as she felt more at ease.  
Dís was not entirely sure why she did this; write to him. It was for no one, only herself. It was painful, but she hoped it would bring her some form of peace. She would burn it, and hope that the words would find him in the afterlife. That was the reason she would not write any of the names, for only the name of the intended must be written in a letter for the other side. That way the words would more easily find the right receiver.  
  
“I miss you.”  
  
She wrote the one thing she knew with absolutely certainty, but had not spoken out loud. Another tear released from her eye. She dried it stubbornly.  
  
“I have never known pain like the one you cause me, and never as much hatred for the way you were taken from me. I never tell anyone, but your oldest son always knows and comforts me when I am struggling the most. He is so strong and wise, yet so small, and I see you every time I watch him. I am so proud of him, and I know you were too.”  
  
Dís started sobbing, hugging her child to her more desperately.  
  
«Mother.» A little voice spoke behind her. Dís rose quickly from the chair and turned around. Fíli stood behind her, dressed only in a tunic which was far too big and grazed the floor by his feet. It was one of his father’s she realized.  
  
«My dearest boy! Did I wake you?» Dís tried to dry her tears so he would not have to see, but he had seen and heard her already.  
  
Fíli said nothing, he only looked concerned, a look which a boy at five should not have. Dís felt the guilt in her stomach, and she sat down in the chair again. She held out her hand for Fíli to take, and he came to her with silent steps over the cold, stone-hewn floor.  
  
He hugged his arms around her neck, as she raised him onto her lap, next to his brother. «You have me, mother. I will protect you,» Fíli said into her tunic. «Both of you.» He continued, as if that was his responsibility alone. Dís blinked to keep the tears at bay for his grand words, too grand for his age. She suspected it was something Thorin might have told him, and that too brought hot anger to her cheeks.  
  
Dís looked down on him, and forced a thankful smile.  
  
«You are brave and strong, Fíli, and you make me very proud.» She touched his cheek with a soft hand as she laid her cheek onto his head. His soft, golden locks reminded her so of his father, and it sent a ripple of pain through her heart.  
  
«What are you writing, mother?» Fíli asked suddenly curious, looking up at her.  
  
«It… it’s a letter for your father, Fíli.» Dís said plainly, finding no immediate lie to cover the truth.  
  
«But, mother? Father is dead.» Fíli looked as if he was afraid she had forgotten, and it was his task to tell her the awful truth.  
  
«Yes, my lad, I know, but I have not told him all that I wanted. I write this letter to burn, so that he may read it in the afterlife, where he is waiting for us to reunite.» Dís didn't notice her tears before they dripped off her cheek, and Fíli dried some of them with his little hand.  
  
She smiled at her son, kissed his forehead, and leaned her cheek to his hair again. She rocked back and forth with both her sons in her arms, and for the first time in a long time, she felt happiness, for she had her sons to look after. She was not alone.  
  
«Then you must tell him that I will take care of Kíli for him, that I will make him proud.» Fíli said determined, as he tried to look strong. Dís hated to see him trying to be so grown up. No child should need to be so serious. Yet she felt the pride in her glow for his strength, and she knew he would make them all proud.  
  
«Your father was very proud of you, Fíli. He loved you very much. And you must return his love by remembering him in your heart. If you do that, you will carry him with you for the rest of your life, and he will protect you.» She looked him deep in the eyes and then kissed his cheeks. «Now you must sleep, for young boys must rest to grow big and strong.» Dís smiled and pinched his arm lightly so he giggled.  
  
Fíli hugged her again tightly, then jumped off her lap. He turned back suddenly with an eager look in his eyes. «Can Kíli sleep beside me in the bed? That way I can protect him from the monsters in the dark.»  
  
«Yes, but be careful. Remember, he is very fragile.» Dís smiled sweetly, and handed Kíli carefully into Fíli’s small arms, who barely managed to hold his brother.  
  
«I know, mother. He is my brother, and I will always take care of him.» It was a promise, and Dís knew he would not let her down.  
  
As she tucked them both in under the pelts in the bed, she thanked Mahal for blessing her with such beautiful sons. It was every mother’s dream. Yet she did not know why He had taken her husband so early. She trusted it was all part of a grander scheme, something they could not see for their ignorance against the Gods’ greatness.  
  
She sat down by the table again, and took the pen in her hand.  
  
“A girl growing up without a mother may become a cold woman herself. Was it not for your warm love I might have been a bitter woman, but you taught me to love, and I will love our sons with that love. This I promise. All that I am I owe to you, and so I thought I'd lose myself once you were gone. But with your soul living on in our sons, I feel the pain of your loss softened in my heart.”  
  
Dís watched them as they slept soundlessly in the great bed of her and her husband. Fíli had his arm over his little brother, even in sleep protecting him.  
  
It was a strange feeling, being both so happy and so sad at the same time. Dís did not know what fate had planned for her, but she knew she had her sons in all the hardships that would come.  
  
The light was burning low. All the wax had run down the holder and dried on the wooden desk before her. In the last light she wrote:  
  
“Oh, Víli. We had a great life, did we not? Though short, we were happy to the end. I promise to be strong, and care for our sons as long as I live. I owe you that, and more. I will tell Kíli about you and all that you made of your life; I will keep your memory alive in Fíli, so that he may remain strong for the hard years to come. I fear for darker times, though I stay confident with the love of our sons."  
  
“I know you wait for me, mon kurdu, my love, and I hope for your blessings, as I once granted you mine. I don't know when or where we will meet again, but know that you will always have my eternal love."  
  
“Garifâl mon kurdu; I am yours forever.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Translator:  
> mon kurdu = my heart  
> Garifâl mon kurdu = Owner of my heart (roughly)  
> (Yeah I'm having fun with Khuzdul, sue me!)
> 
>  
> 
> When I was out traveling two weeks ago, I wanted to write something about Dís, so I started this silly little thing.
> 
> The idea started with the thought of what Dís would say to Víli after his death, and I'm sure it's far from perfect, but I really wanted to write it, and at the same time give a little blast about my future fanfiction which will entail how Dís and Víli met and fell in love and all the problems along the way. I am very excited about it, but I still want to finish my current fanfic before starting the next!^^ So this was my own little gift to myself, and I really hope you like it as well!^^
> 
> Dís (C) Tolkien
> 
> Fanfiction, idea (C) Me, IngvildSchage


End file.
